Hey guys! Here's a steampunk-y pirate slowburn bellarke au that I couldn't get out of my head, and who doesn't love pirates? So little background I guess, Clarke is the runaway princess and Bellamy is the pirate "king" so yay! I'm planning on this being a long slowburning angsty story, so stay tuned! Since I'm also slowly working on a different story for another fandom, updates will be a little slow but I will try for once a week or once every two weeks. Thanks! I hope you enjoy, and please read!


Clarke walked calmly down the pier towards the ship she'd been directed to buy some sailors earlier that day. According to her sources, the ship she was walking towards was a cruise ship heading out of the kingdom- which was where she needed to be. This information had cost her a pretty penny, however, and Clarke was starting to run out of pretty pennies. It was stupid to carry as much gold on her person as she was, but she didn't want to risk having to beg or steal for basic necessities. It was a wonder no one had recognized her yet, she didn't need to become an outlaw when she was already a fugitive. Trying not to wince, Clarke ignored the burning pain in her abdomen and stood with perfect posture as she had been taught in years of etiquette lessons. So what if she was wounded, she was royal and would walk as such.

"Is this the Phoenix?" Clarke asks a crewman as she walks up to the ship. The man is carting crates onto the ship along with some other members of his crew. He's dressed in a smart white uniform, and has a gun strapped to his leg. Clarke eyes the gun warily, but puts on her "princess smile", the one that she had been raised to use when in the company of nobility or other such high esteemed people.

"Yes it is ma'am. Can I help you?" The crewman asked, looking over her fancy petticoats with an approving glint. Clarke resisted the urge to tug her cloak in closer, and instead she smiled at the man.

"I was wondering if it were possible for me to buy passage on your vessel. I hear you are heading toward the Southern Kingdoms, and I would like to join." Clarke says sweetly.

"Well, ma'am. I'm not sure if we have an empty cabin, but I can take you to the captain." The sailor said warily. Clarke just curtsied, letting out a sharp gasp of pain at the movement, and smiled again.

"That would be wonderful, if you don't mind." The sailor gestured for Clarke to follow him, and she walked up the tall gangway and onto the large ship. Clarke's bag bounced against her thigh as she trudged up the wooden plank. Her relatively small bag was the only thing she had brought with her, it had a few medical supplies and some extra clothes but that was it. Clarke looked up at the large ship in awe. There were two stories, that Clarke could see, and it was one of the biggest luxury ships she had ever seen. It was almost as big as a Royal Battleship. The sailor led Clarke to a cabin that was labeled "Captain's Quarters" and he knocked on the door. The door opened, revealing an older man, Clarke assumed he was at least fifty, wearing a stark white and blue uniform with gold bands on the shoulders. He had a beard that presented how much he valued cleanliness based on how well groomed it was.

"What is it?" He asked gruffly, looking Clarke up and down.

"Sir! This lady would like to buy passage on our ship to the Southern Kingdoms." The sailor said with a salute. The captain nodded and gestured to the sailor to get back to work. The sailor left without looking back. Clarke swallowed heavily and turned to the Captain with another charming smile.

"What takes you to the Southern Kingdom so urgently, miss?" The captain asked.

"I'm afraid my great-aunt has fallen ill. She's a Duchess is one of the kingdoms, and I have been asked to visit her for her last moments and take her place in the household." Clarke recited. She made sure to cast her eyes down in sadness and wring her hands together. She had practiced her story in the days before she had escaped, and knew exactly what to say to win over the Captain of a luxury ship.

"I see. That is unfortunate. I am very sorry to hear that. I believe we may be able to house you on your journey. My name is Captain Ward, and this is my ship, the Phoenix. May I ask for your name?" Captain Ward asked, bowing down respectfully.

"Of course. My name is Francesca. Francesca De Moines. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain Ward. I am so very thankful for your help. May I ask the cost of my shelter?" Clarke replied smoothly.

"Ah yes, of course. From here to the Southern Kingdoms is a long journey, about a month and a half. Your fare will include housing, food and water, and protection. There have been more and more pirate attacks lately, buy you need not worry my dear. We are very well equipped to handle such a threat. I'll let you pay half now, and half when we reach your destination. So your first payment will be one hundred Silvings."

One-hundred Silvings? That was ten gold coins worth! Even for this ship, that was asking for a lot. Clarke couldn't let the captain see her hesitate though, since he believed she was part of a wealthy noble family.

"Of course. Here you are." Clarke said with a smile, pulling out ten gold coins from her hand purse as if they were nothing. The captain took the coins with a wide grin and welcomed Clarke to her new home. Well, at least for the next month and a half. When Clarke had finally locked herself inside her new cabin, she leaned against the door and groaned. She was standing in a good-sized room, just big enough for one person to live in without feeling too cramped. There was a small bed in the corner under a porthole, and a door led to what she assumed to be the bathroom. The room was nice, but definitely not worth ten whole gold coins. Sighing, Clarke peeled off the heavy layers of her dress and limped into the bathroom. Red had soaked through the pale white under-dress Clark been wearing. Swearing, Clarke lifted the dress to reveal her blood soaked bandages. It looked like she had opened her stitches with all the walking around she had been doing. Clarke unbound the gauze from her torso to inspect her wound, the memory of how it had been inflicted flashing to the front of her mind.

Clarke had made it out of the outer wall, and was running through the busy city streets. Panic and adrenaline was the only thing keeping her moving at that point, and she needed to find a place to hide before she was caught, or collapsed. Clarke ducked through an ally way and onto another less-crowded street. Clarke slowed down to a brisk walk, her heavy dress weighing her down and the skirts swished obnoxiously, limiting Clarke's movement. Clarke took a deep breath and counted to sixty. After reaching sixty, Clarke relaxed a bit. Maybe she had lost the Guards. Right as the thought crossed her mind, Clarke heard yelling from behind her.

Stealing a look over her shoulder, Clarke saw a few members of the Guard pointing at her and running. Clarke clenched her jaw and started to run again. She saw the townspeople stare at her curiously. Seeing a teen girl wearing the most expensive clothes money could buy and running of all things in them was bound to shock some people. Stares were the least of Clarke's worries right now, however. Clarke heard more yelling, and a gunshot rang through the street, shocking both Clarke and the citizens. Clarke ducked instinctively and turned around. One of the Guard had pulled his gun and was aiming right at Clarke. Dread filled her heart as she realized that because of what she knew, her mother was willing to have her killed.

"Get out of the way! Run!" Clarke yelled, waving her arms at the people in the street. The Guard took advantage of Clarke's position and took another shot, this time hitting his mark. The bullet tore through Clarke's side, passing right through the first inch of her gut, coincidentally right across from her belly button. Clarke screamed in pain, but forced herself to crawl along the street towards a crowd of people, where she had a chance of blending in. Luck was finally on her side, and the Guards walked right by her. Wincing, Clarke limped over to a merchant stand and swiped a dark cloak from off the table. She felt bad for stealing, but she needed the cover the cloak provided. Clarke hid in an ally way and took off the top layer of her dress, which luckily hadn't been stained by any blood yet. Clarke felt around the wound from the front and the back and was happy that the iron casing had gone right through her.

Clarke tore a hunk of cloth from one of her many dress layers, and stuffed it in her mouth. What she was about to do would be very painful. Clarke never left the castle without medical supplies, a lesson from her Master, and she pulled a needle and thread out of her bag. Grimacing, Clarke made sure no one was around before threading the needle and hooking it through her skin. The makeshift gag muffled Clarke's screams, and she clumsily sutured her wounds.

Clarke was jolted out of her reverie when the ship started moving. Stumbling, Clarke made her way to the porthole and saw the port slowly fading away into the distance. Clarke stood in front of the porthole until all land had completely disappeared from sight. Clarke sighed in relief. She made it. She had finally escaped the Arc, and could finally start her plan to get justice for her father's murder. Smiling, Clarke once again pulled out the bloody needle and stuffed a wad of cloth in her mouth again. Time to repeat the process. Gasping, Clarke sewed herself back together without a sound.

After eating some dinner in her quarters, Clarke had finally fallen asleep when sounds of alarm filled the air. Jumping up quickly, and immediately regretting her decision after the pain flooded her body, Clarke ran over to the porthole and gazed out into the night. A dark shape blocked out the light of the starts and part of the dark ocean. Squinting, Clarke tried to make out what the thing was. Suddenly, a ray of moonlight lit it up, revealing a ship. Not any ship, however. Clarke groaned when she saw the pirate flag swaying in the wind. Just her luck. Clarke stood at the window, rubbing her sleepy eyes to try and convince herself she was dreaming, or that it was all a terrible hallucination, but the ship still floated on the horizon, slowly but surely making its way to the cruise ship. Cursing, Clarke wobbled over to her suitcase, looking to see if she had packed a simpler dress. She might be able to pass of as a servant on the ship if she could get the damn dress off.

Clarke gasped as all of her movement caught up with her, causing her wound to throb in painful protest. Gritting her teeth, Clarke pushed through the pain to gather her things. Clarke tore off another strip of cloth and tied it around her upper thigh. She took her coin purse and slipped it between her thigh and the cloth, and then she wrapped more cloth around it to secure it to her leg. She would have slipped it into her corset, but if the ship was about to be taken by pirates, there was sure to be some unsavory types that would even "search" her bosom. Clarke stripped down to her under dress, which was still made from fancy silks, but not as noticeable as the layered petticoats. She pulled on her cloak and stuffed her med kit into one of the inner pockets. Clarke looked around for some kind of weapon, cursing her stupidity for leaving the palace without a knife, or even a gun. She stumbled around the cabin, her vision cloudy and head dizzy.

"…lost a lot of blood, need iron…" Clarke mumbled. She reached into her bag clumsily and pulled out a bag of herbs. She dug through the herbs and grabbed a known plant that helped wounded soldiers last longer in the battlefield. It had been developed in a lab during the Great War and Clarke was lucky to have some. She tore off a chunk and stuffed it in her mouth. The leaves were bitter and Clarke almost threw up what she had eaten for dinner. Clarke then looked through the bag for capsaicin, a painkiller. She grabbed a tiny amount, not wanting to waste any just yet, and quickly swallowed the ground up plant.

Clarke felt a little better as the drugs took effect, but her gut clenched as she heard a cannon shot. Shouts echoed throughout the ship, and Clarke looked out the porthole again. The pirate ship was docked right next to The Phoenix. She could hear the shouts of the pirates through the ship and sweat dripped down her brow. Another shot rant out, this time hitting the ship. Clarke struggled to keep her balance as the ship rocked from the momentum. Judging from the sound and turbulence, the cannonball must have hit somewhere close by. Clarke rushed out of her cabin and into the crowded hallway. Women in their fine silk nightgowns and slippers cried out, and the men grumbled but had a worried look on their faces. If the captain or someone didn't do something soon, panic would spread and cause chaos.

Clarke hoped for some chaos so she could slip away unnoticed and try to find a place to hide. Loud thuds sounded from above them, followed by loud bellows and gunshots. The pirates had boarded.

Clarke pushed against the screaming mob and ran towards the sounds of fighting. She clutched her injury, a grimace marring her features. Scowling, Clarke forced her way through frantic, panicky women and men, making her way to the front deck. Her coin purse jangled against her thigh, and Clarke reached under her skirt to tighten the cloth around it. A stray elbow jammed into Clarke's wound, making her fall to her knees. Tears burned in her eyes, and Clarke scooted over against the wall to try and get out of the path of the stampede of panicked passengers. Bags and flying limbs smacked into her, creating a relentless barrage of pain. Clarke slowly opened her eyes when the clamor stopped. All of the wealthy passengers were frozen in the hall. Clarke heard triumphant shouts from above, and knew all was lost. She pulled her hand away from her chest, and winced. Her hand was sticky with blood, and the cloth of her dress pulled away with her hand, stuck to the drying blood.

Panting, Clarke pushed up against the wall, using it as support for her aching body. She heard whimpering and then the loud thump of footsteps trudging down the stairs from the main deck. The steps kept in time with her heartbeat, thump-thump-thump. Clarke saw a man descend from the stairs, but the crowd clouded her view. All she saw was a clump of dark brown curls and a smirk. Great. A cocky bastard, was Clarke's first thought.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The man chuckled sarcastically. "It looks to me, boys, that we happened upon a luxury cruise ship!"

Chuckles echoed from behind the man, as more pirates filled the already crowded hall. Clarke looked around to see that the passengers were surrounded by pirates- a band of them blocking each exit.

"Now, all I really ask, as a simple businessman, is for you all to hand over your valuables without a fight. I'm only lookin' to make honest money." The man declared, his deep voice echoing throughout the silent corridor. His cohorts laughed again.

"Who do you think you are, you pirate?" A man spat. Stupid. Clarke thought. Don't provoke the gun-toting maniac.

"I think I am in charge of this vessel now, and that you should listen to me." The man stated simply. Clarke heard the sound of a sword being drawn, and her blood ran cold. A gurgled cry rang through the ship, and Clarke heard the thump of a body hitting the ground. Clarke couldn't see through the mob of people, but what she heard made her blood run cold. A woman cried out, but otherwise the ship was deathly silent.

"Any more objections?" The voice asked, only to hear silence in reply.

The pirates pooled the passengers out onto the main deck and into the cool night air. The cold wind felt good against Clarke's burning skin, and she drank in the fresh air. Loud shouts and bangs could be heard from bellow deck as the pirates ransacked the ship. Every once and a while, a pirate would emerge from the bellows of the ship with a sack filled with valuables. Clarke could see The Phoenix crew tied up against the different masts, each stripped of any and all possible weapons. These pirates were thorough, that was for sure.

"Alright ladies and gents. Time to take off all your shiny things." A pirate said with a devilish smile. He had goggles resting on top of his head, and a young Asian man followed him around with a cheery smile. The goggled pirate walked through the crowd of passengers with an open sack, the passengers slipped off their rings and watches, necklaces and bracelets, and slowly dropped them in the sack.

"What about you, pretty lady?" Got anything shiny for us?" Goggles asked, stopping in front of Clarke. Clarke glared at the pirate and raised her hand from within her cloak to flip him off.

"Wow. We gotta feisty one here." The Asian man whistled. Both the pirates gave Clarke a once over, and their eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Now what's a pretty girl like you, doing on a ship like this without anything shiny?" Goggles asked.

"Just a simple maid trying to earn a living. Just like you." Clarke spat. Chuckling, Goggles looked at his friend, who nodded.

"Hey Capt'n! I think you should come over here for a second!" Goggles yelled. Panic and adrenaline coursed through Clarke's veins. Shit. She shouldn't have flipped Goggles off, she should have just laid low and given him her necklace or something. That's when Clarke remembered that engraved on her locket was her family seal. The royal seal. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping Clarke from passing out, and she definitely had enough adrenaline to stand tall at the moment.

"What's wrong, Jasper?" A deep voice asked. The crowd of passengers parted, revealing a tall man sauntering down towards her. The man had dark curls, and Clarke thought she saw freckles dotting his face in the moonlight. He was over a head taller than her, and had a rapier strapped to his belt. His leather boots pounded against the wooden deck, his dark coat flapping around his legs. Clarke took note of the gun secured to his hip. Guns were hard to come by, even for the Royal Army it was rare for a soldier to own a gun. Clarke jutted out her jaw and glared at the pirate captain.

"This lady here claims to be a maid. And she doesn't have anything shiny." Goggles, or now Jasper, said. Squaring her shoulders, and ignoring the pain in her stomach, Clarke scowled at the captain.

"Oh, does she now? What makes you so special, princess?" The captain said. Clarke's heart stopped at the nickname, until she realized that he was trying to insult her. Smirking, Clarke's eyebrow rose and she looked the man up and down.

"Nothing. Just working my way to the South." She said. Breathing was starting to hurt, and Clarke knew that she wasn't going to last long in her current condition. The captain laughed and smacked Jasper on the back.

"You always find the interesting ones, don't you?" He said. Clarke struggled to keep her eyes wide open and locked on to the captains.

"Don't worry, Cap. She's bound to be hiding something." The Asian boy said with a shrug.

"Girl like that don't take a ship like this as a maid."

"You're right, Monty. What are you hiding, huh princess?" The captain asked. He slowly stepped closer and closer to Clarke until he was toe to toe with her, looming over her shaking frame.

"I have nothing to hide." Clarke growled. The captain smiled with false charm and grabbed her necklace and tugged it off her neck with a snap. He looked down at the seal, then back at her. She clenched her jaw, and resisted the urge to crumple into a ball and scream. The captain must have seen something in her face, for he squinted and looked down at her chest. Clarke clenched her fists tight enough to draw blood from her palm as an attempt at distracting herself from the pain in her side. The herbs were wearing off, or she didn't take enough to help. Sweat dripped down her brow, and the Captain's eyes widened in realization. He reached for her cloak and slowly opened it, ignoring the chuckles from his crew- who had gathered around to see what the fuss was all about.

Clarke heard the captain's intake of breath when he saw her blood soaked dress.

"Well shit." He murmured.

"Fuck, what the hell?" Clarke heard Jasper mutter from behind the captain.

"Take her to the ship! Grab all you can, we're leaving!" The captain shouted.

"What? But we don't have everything yet! Why are we taking her? Just leave her to die!" Jasper shouted back. The captain looked down at her necklace, then back at Jasper, who paled underneath his Captain's gaze.

"I said, pack up. We are leaving." The captain said slowly. Jasper nodded and waved to the rest of the pirates to start ferrying the sacks of gold onto the pirate ship. Clarke panted tried to turn and run, but only succeeded in falling to the ground with a groan.

"Oh no you don't, sweetheart. You're coming with us. We have a lot to discuss." The captain said, picking her up and throwing her across his shoulder. Clarke cried out in pain, and remembered only the ocean waves crashing against two ships as she was carried across a gangplank and onto a pirate ship.

Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness, images of a beautiful, angry, freckled face floating though her mind. Clarke slowly slid out of her slumber and felt the warmth of the sun on her face. Her eyes blinked open slowly, meeting the dark wood of a ceiling above her and she groaned. Her entire body ached. She turned her head to the source of the light and saw a porthole with the sun shining through it. Squinting, Clarke slowly sat up, hissing in pain as her wound stung. She lifted the blankets lying on top of her to look at her now bandaged chest. She touched the tightly wound wrappings, impressed at the skill of her healer. She sat up completely and turned away from the window, her feet touching the cool wood floor. She moved to get up from the bed, but stumbled when her left hand was yanked back.

"What the…" Clarke muttered, looking over at her hand. A metal cuff encircled her pale wrist, attached to some chain, which was then wrapped around the bed frame. Scowling, Clarke dug around in her hair for a pin, smiling in triumph when she found one still stuck in her blonde hair.

"Captain, where do you think you're goin'?" Jasper asked, following after the tall frame of his captain.

"I heard something from the girl's quarters." He replied, gruffly. Rolling his eyes, Jasper ran to keep up with the long strides of the Captain.

"Obviously you heard something. What else would a girl do except scream when she wakes up strapped to a strange bed? Wouldn't you?" Jasper yelled after the man. The Captain just turned around and glared at Jasper. He stopped in front of one of the doors in the corridor, and pulled out a key from one of his many pockets. He gestured to Jasper to stand back, and he knocked while opening the door.

"Princess? You awa- oww! What the fu-" Came the loud shouts from within. Jasper rushed in, his hand on his sword, but stopped when he saw the scene in the room.

"This, this is- you are never going to live this down, Cap." Jasper chuckled. When the Captain had opened the door, Clarke was waiting and had smacked him upside the head with a chunk of wood that was once the bedpost. After he had gone down, she'd jumped around him and held him in a strangle hold with the chain while strapping the metal cuff onto his wrist and hooking the chain around the bed frame.

"Shut up Jasper, get me out of this thing." The Captain ordered, refusing to meet Jasper's gaze.

"Who are you? Where am I? What's going on? Don't come any closer!" Clarke exclaimed. She lifted her makeshift club and waved it at Jasper, who raised his arms in surrender.

"Easy there, Princess." The Captain said from the floor.

"Don't call me that!" Clarke spat, pointing the club at him. She backed away from the men and stopped when her back hit the far wall by the window. Panting, she clutched her stomach.

"Hey, you need rest. Just lay back down and we'll talk, kay?" Jasper said calmly. The Captain was sputtering out a creative curse and unlocking the cuff with a key Jasper had thrown to him.

"Listen to me, Princess. We're not here to make you feel a nice and fuzzy. We are pirates and we just looted the ship you were on! You are wearing an interesting necklace, and I want to know who you are. So. Put down the bed frame, and sit down!" The Captain yelled, walking closer and closer to Clarke as he spoke until he was, once again, toe to toe with her. Clarke actually growled at the man, and stepped up so she was right in his face.

"Make me." She said darkly, before fainting, for the second time, into his (very muscular) arms.

Clarke woke, once again, strapped down to a strange bed. The difference this time was that she had a cuff on each wrist and they were wrapped around the bars on the porthole and then tied to a newly installed metal bar on the floor. Sighing, Clarke sat up to face the stern face of the ship's Captain. He was sitting on a chair that was placed right up against the foot of Clarke's bed.

"So. Nice place you've got here. Really liking the bdsm feel." Clarke spat sarcastically. The Captain's lips twitched and he took a deep breath.

"Very funny. You going to talk now?" He asked simply. Clarke raised her chin in defiance and stared down the Captain. He stared right back, and they sat staring each other down for a few minutes.

"I stole it." Clarke said.

"The locket? As if. It has a royal seal." The captain scoffed.

"So? I still stole it. Got it from a room on a ship in a port."

"Really? Just happened upon a royal important enough to have the royal seal embossed on their locket?"

"I'm pretty lucky."

"Nobody's that lucky." The captain sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"Say that I believe you, which is a long shot. What are you going to do now, since you are on my pirate ship now." He asked. Clarke looked out the porthole, noticing how far down the sun had gone.

"Survive." She replied quietly, turning to meet his dark eyes. The Captain stood up and unlocked Clarke's wrists. Rubbing the tender flesh, Clarke stood up and looked at the man questioningly. He nodded for her to follow him and left the room. Clarke hurried after him. They walked through many different halls before ascending a staircase. Clarke gasped when she felt the fresh sea air on her face. The cool wind blew caressed her skin and Clarke smiled.

"Welcome to my ship. We're in need of another crewman, if you're up to the task, that is." The Captain said, waving his arms to show off the main deck.

"What's in it for me?" Clarke asked.

"Just like a pirate already. Well, you get food, shelter, and a job. What else are you going to do. Where else are you going to go?" Bellamy asked, nodding towards the seemingly endless ocean around the ship. Clarke didn't have much of a choice. It seemed as if she was to become a pirate, which was probably better than the palace at this point. She nodded at the Captain, and walked to lean on the railing, her wound stinging. The Captain smiled and spread his arms wide.

"Welcome to the crew. We're the 100, and I'm the Captain. You can call me Bellamy."

Alright! What did you think? Reviews and favorites will determine whether or not I continue this little story!